June 30, 2009

...A day marked in infamy.

Or just really big celebrations!

Our favorite neighbors are finally moving. I'm not at liberty to say the why or what for they are moving but I can assure you, I am doing the giddy happy dance!

And they know it.

And I don't care.

Short of offering to let them use our dolly to haul their crap out of the building faster and easier, I have been the kindest neighbor I could be in the last 2 days weeks.

I had considered throwing a BBQ in the front yard today as they packed their UHaul. But I am not. (budget concerns)

I saw their friends coming to help them move crap out over the last week and moved my van across the parking lot strip so they could have easier access to moving out. (and so they didn't scratch my van. accidental or not.)

So, in short, I am excited to no end that they are moving out today and heading all the way to Virginia. Let them be someone else's problem!!

Also of good report today, another family who drives me nuts is moving out. So the top three most annoying kids in this complex will all be but a memory this time tomorrow.

They keep threatening to move. Follow through!!

At what point does the racism card stop being okay to play? Like, when is it OVER played? Because I'm pretty sure my neighbors are there.

Our property owners got rid of one of the dumpsters in our parking lot in an effort to save money. Unfortunately it was the one closest to us. (also unfortunate is the part where they did it right before half the complex moved out).

So we have this admittedly bad habit of putting a bag of garbage outside the front door to take to the dumpster when it's morning or has stopped raining (last night with thunder and lightening). But it's never food garbage. It's like cat box scooped stuff. Mmmmm, good morning!

Our neighbor, who employed this practice daily until she decided to complain about our occasional bag, is now calling our landlord every time she sees it. Which is like twice, I think. But still.

At this point I would also like to explain that they have a car which does not run and has not moved since October. In one of the front and center to our building parking spaces.

So our landlord, who is so caught in the middle and who I am NOT complaining about because she's in no better a place than us, calls us (well, texts now) to let us know our neighbor has complained about the bag of cat poop. But she can't harass them to move their piece of sh*t car because then they go screaming to her boss about racial profiling/discrimination/harassment.

The best part is that we end up getting the shaft since we're white, like our landlord enough to not be little kids about the whole thing (Aiden's totally the one who keeps us in line. I want to bitch!), and are NOT the squeaky wheel.

Awesome.

The sample

I don't know if I am allowed to blog about the poo kit. I do know that this is one of those circumstances that is hilarious. If you are not the one having to live it.



After Aiden got handed his poop hat full of all the amenities he'd need the fun began. Everyone stared him down in the waiting room. Mostly this was because we were laughing so hard on our way out. The sample has to be delivered to the destination (I feel like I'm in the Secret Service speaking in all this code to avoid being too icky) within 30 minutes of... um... the event. Clearly it couldn't be done while he was at work.



Could you imagine? "Ms. K___, I have to go to the bathroom. First I have to go get my special hat out of my car. Then I'll need to leave so I can run this up to the lab while it's still... fresh."



No, definitely not during business hours.



It finally happened. All the poo kit stars aligned: the urge and opportunity during the right hours for getting things to a lab all came together.



This is where the funniness becomes subjective. I think it's hilarious and have NO PROBLEM cracking jokes about the situation (If you want to hear them, you'll have to call me. I'm pretty sure they would not be well recieved by ALL who visit this page)(it's worth the call). Meanwhile, Aiden has the willies and is NOT laughing anymore.



The kit and the man disappeared down the hall accompanied by a garbage bag. He had an exit strategy for not carrying the special hat to the dumpster in plain view.



The man and the bag re-appeared. There was tears running and vomit dripping from his chin. I don't tell you this to embarrass him, just to point out the awfulness of what I did next.



He went back down the hall to "clean the vomit out of the sink".



I laughed. Not loud, just giggles. Lots of them.



I had to bring him a Sharpie to write on his Play-Doh can of poo and then I had to find a bag. Before his nerves had set in he wished we had a Starbucks bag to take it to the lab in. But we don't.



We did, however, have a lovely yellow gift bag with a little sign on the top that says "celebrate".